


Destiny Could Use a Few Rewrites

by Mango_the_lemon_fox



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Use, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Graffiti, Homophobia, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecurity, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Not as angsty as the tags make it out to be I swear!, Pining, Sexual innuendos, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Virgil is ace, adding tags as I go, death (not a human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24729805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mango_the_lemon_fox/pseuds/Mango_the_lemon_fox
Summary: Roman had been waiting for a soulmate since he could wait. He spent hours daydreaming about what they could be like, musing in-depthly about their appearance, and counting the names he’d come up with as he drifted off to sleep. Then when his younger brother got his a few years early, Roman (armed with his lucky pen) takes matters into his own hands.What could go wrong?
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	1. Janus & Logan

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! Here a few things you can expect from this fic if I actually end up getting around to finishing it woo! Long drawn out scenes, trashy romance, some random side character getting murdered since I’ll wake up feeling like writing violence, and writing that will demonstrate how the author can't decide if she wants to write about the countryside or a weird city in the middle of nowhere. And probably more murder.  
> Have fun folks. 
> 
> Also, warning for some mild descriptions of roadkill

Roman tended to see things as relative. When his parents bought him that Shetland pony it wasn't really about the sweetness in its heart and the floof of its main but more about the favor of his friends Appaloosa. Or when he first got on a skateboard it ended up being less about his rather fast improvement, but instead the group of kids who rode down his street doing complex flips and turns. He didn’t appreciate his many screenplays, only how they stacked up to one's around him. So, when his little brother got his soulmate two years earlier than normal, you can see how it sent Roman into a panic.

“It’s not that I’m jealous, just..worried, yeah, worried.” Roman explained, leaning against his front yard's beat up fence, hands hung loosely in the pockets of his designer jeans, sneakers digging into the rough concrete. The sun was wavering through the burnt sky, dripping pools of yellow beneath the crooked mountains, pinks and purples fighting over who got to color the fluffy white clouds. 

“Has anyone ever told you how much of a bad liar you are? If not, I’d be happy too.” Janus smirked. Janus was an anomaly, it’s not like he could be classified as a friend, but he definitely wasn’t a stranger or even an acquaintance. Maybe it was just the title changed depending on who he was talking too: To his dad Janus was his best friend forever, to his friends at school Janus was the annoying neighbor who didn’t know how to mind his business, and to himself, well that was sent wasps through his stomach whenever he thought about it, so he didn’t. 

“Has anyone ever told you your rude.” Roman huffed, crossing his arms as he studied Janus in the encroaching moonlight. His sporadic brown hair was tousled messily beneath a velvet black beane. A midnight T-shirt with a yellow snake printed on it in a style that was reminiscent of crappy spray paint, dark grey cargo pants. And to top it off, that smug smirk ran across both ‘halves’ (As Janus liked to say) of his face, as one was clad in an ashy white due to an early onset of vitiligo.

“Definitely not.” Janus laughed mockingly, tilting into the seat of his bike, heterochromia scanning through dusty surroundings. Romans house was rather misleading, the thick grass, mellow dandelions, and old tractor had that farm-like feel most of the houses at the edge of town seemed to have. Yet, once you got into the house, it was loaded, king sized beds, olympic sized hot tub out back, and more paintings than could fill two and a half museums. 

“I think I’m going to head to bed..” Roman sighed rather suddenly, his ruby red sweatshirt starting to be enveloped in a sea of virbent gold, stars peeking out from beneath dark sheets. He hugged himself a bit tighter, fall air ruffling his shy rusty hair, feeling his shoulder drag slightly as tomorrow settled heavily on his strained mind.

“And I thought you a night owl?” Janus smirked tiredly, sliding onto his bike, pale gloves digging into the rubber handles. “You aren't going to find a soulmate by sleeping your life away.” He commented snidely, boots slamming against the ridged pedals.

“You already have one, you wouldn’t understand.” Roman commented with a strange lucidity, head hung as he turned his head towards the front steps, a small peach colored moth perching on a fold in the red fabric covering his back.

“Guess not.” Janus laughed lightly, playing with the words, letting something unspoken hang across his twisted grin. Then he rode off into the night, wheels screeching as they turned down on to the main rode, dust hanging in the air like fog, the world melting into an unseeable mess.

__

Roman was definitely a night owl. 

He flipped off his desk lamp, leaning back in his old wood chair (his Grandmother had built it before passing away a few summers back) just letting his thoughts consume him for a bit, the warm night rolling in through his small window. He hated it, he hated it so much. Every night was more lonely than the next. Silence, silence, and more silence. Sometimes it made him want to scream, other times he just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, he did neither. (Didn't help that he could hear Remus and Patton flirting on the phone in the room next door) 

His brother had found a name scribbled neatly across his arm exactly one week ago. It had been an average morning, a cold chill leaving them all to eat breakfast snuggled up by the small fireplace, their neighbors using that far too loud lawnmower, Roman attempting to finish his three day late essay. Then Remus came bolting down the stairs, pajama sleeve rolled up right above his elbow, perfect cursive letters inscribed on his slightly purple skin, ‘Patton’. It made Roman sick. 

He chewed on the tip of one of his favorite fountain pens, looking out into the empty sky. He turned back on his lantern, starting to doodle the sky on the crumpled piece of paper laid haphazardly in front of him. He had a small art project due tomorrow, and he’d been putting it off for the last few days. The assignment was to draw somewhere you’d like to visit one day. 

He illustrated tiny little moons, vibrant reds forming a mighty sun, army’s of stars charging over cloudy mountains, waves of atmosphere, tiny meteors falling like dropped marbles. 

He didn’t really want to go to space, but he most certainly didn’t want to visit anywhere on earth. As long as he breathed sweet air, trudged through lonesome fields, and cuddled non-alien dogs, he’d be reminded of how much of a failure he was. 

He signed his name at the bottom, looking sadly into the inky sky, pen blood dripping across the thin paper, staining his small writing desk, globs of crinkled paper. He’d been failing art class, worse than the rest of his lackluster studies. Maybe it was the obnoxious teacher, the sound of that awful music she played while they worked, or he just sucked. Maybe he’d never know.

He shut off his lamp for the last time, walking over and sliding beneath annoyingly warm covers, stiff mattress grinding against his back, head stuffed into a mass of pillows. 

__

Roman rode his skateboard down the hot concrete, red sneakers scraping against sharp rock, the wind bristling his slightly sunburnt face, hair flashing a strawberry chocolate. 

His route to school was always rather long, but he’d never been too keen on taking his parents up on the offer to drive him. He said it was due to not wanting them to be late to work, the voice in the back of his head reminded him it was because he felt bad about failing his driving test. 

He dug into rough plywood, board turning as it narrowly avoided a rough path of stones (they were likely from the pack of kids who like to chuck them at cars then dash). 

Nawlake was just one of those towns where no one gave a damn. Either you wander through the slums that make up most of the miserable place or you find yourself in the small section filled with rich drunks. The only thing that brought everyone to the place was the watering hole of a school, second best in the country. Roman couldn’t agree less.

He found himself arriving at the part of town known for its skateboarding crowd. The park fence along the sidewalk was bent from years of being ridden on: A small wooden slope in the middle of the rode, a miracle that all the cars actually rode around it: And an ally between the dentist and convenience store that was filled with all sorts of idiotic thrills.

Roman slid boredly on the curb, crown pin seemingly permanently stuck to his red jacket glinting in the early sunlight. He’d tried every trick the place had to offer, had a scar from failing every one of them. 

“Romen? You left without me?!” A voice yelled from behind, the thick sun kissed air turning to a sweet ginger. He kicked his foot down, forcing his steady skateboard to a halt, turning he saw a boy slightly younger than him bent over, breathing rather heavily. He had dirty blond hair, a light blue long sleeve with a little heart in the corner, cardigan tossed around his neck, slightly faded jeans, and soft white shoes with tightly tied laces. 

“Oh, I guess I just assumed my brother was a bit more of a gentleman..” Roman sighed, kicking up his skateboard with his heel and tucking his absentmindedly under his arm. 

“I actually told him I was busy..” Patton said sheepishly, running his fingers through his choppy curls, sun lighting up his freckle plastered smile. “I don’t want me and him being soulmates to get in the way of our friendship.” He added, tightening his grip around the edges of his book bag.

“What did he do?” Roman pressed, not believing a bit of that crap. Patton and Remus wouldn’t dare spend a moment apart, it was gross. 

“Nothing I promise, just wanted to spend some time with my good old childhood bestie” Patton smiled, skipping along as Roman continued to trudge down the road. 

“Sure”

___

The night was grim, flickering street lights bedazzling the lonesome road, the faint howl of coyotes ringing from deep in the woods. Roman was out taking a walk, simply enjoying the scenery, even if said scenery consisted of candy bar wrappers, weeds poking between poorly trimmed clumps of sticky grass, and a polluted sky. 

“This park is quite nice at night huh?” A voice whispered, sending a prickle down Romans spine. It was smooth and calculated, almost robotic. Roman turned and there standing in the darkness was someone he’d come to know as Logan. Stiff black hair tucked up over sharp blue, dressed in an overly fancy ebony dress shirt with a secure striped tie. 

“Oh, Logan Flint, head of the debate team” Roman said with a friendly frown, kicking a pebble across the lively ground. He’d seen Logan around school for sure, but they’d never talked much, he was like one of those you’d say hi to in the supermarket on a good day kinda classmates.

“Roman Prince, you starred in the play last fall, you were a very convincing Brett.” Logan smield, looking off into the empty basketball court. It was rarely used for playing basketball, instead just becoming a hangout for kids to steal each other's Pokémon cards or young graffiti artist's first canvases. 

“Oh, the play didn’t really have any stars, just a main cast, but thank you.” Roman smiled coyly, tugging the strings of his jacket, hood tightening around his hazel hair. 

“Of course.” Logan sighed simply, then they stood in silence once for a bit, enjoying the early fall warmth, and fearing the creeping cold. That was the point Roman decided he rather enjoyed Logan’s company, even if he seemed like a total nerd. “I should probably head home, one must have optimal sleep for optimal performance.” He stated oddly proudly.

“Wait Logan, before you go I have a small question.” Roman sniffed lightly, eyes taking on a deep fascination with the smushed pansy laying next to his shoe.

“Yes?” Logan asked, form melting slightly into the shadowy twilight, hands hung lowly at his sides, head held high as he shot Roman a stern glance.

“Do you have a soulmate?”

“I'm afraid not, not really one to concern myself with such things, no matter how ingrained in our culture, they're just not my thing.” Logan answered, it had his typical rich metallic feel, practiced, complete, but there was something beneath it...almost defensive, afraid, forsaken. “Goodnight Roman, you should get some sleep.”

“G-night.”

__

Roman tore down the street on his brother's bike. Remus had the audacity to steal his skateboard and he was planning to run the bike into the swamp for revenge. The wheels spun chaotically, grinding into rocky ruts, slicing over broken glass, dashing around speeding cars. It was nice honestly the wind tearing through his hair, rain splattering his freckles, adrenaline kicking at the edge of his flesh, newly painted nails digging into the thin handles. 

Thunder cracked through the dry air.

Remus’s bike was pretty old, it had been around since Janus still collected and hatched snake eggs in his overall pockets, and Remus wasn’t some prodigy child. The red paint had become flaky, wheels rugged and muddy, chain flimsy and corroded.

Then the bike hit a rather sizable bump, sending him tumbling onto the dirty gravel road. It was a rough fall, arms scrapping, bruises tearing at the edges of his knees, head slamming into a sharp rock. 

And after he managed to squeak his eyes open, he found himself staring into the ant infested eyes of a decomposing rabbit. It’s middle was open and squashed, intestines squirting out, blood splattered everywhere, deep brown fur covered in maggots. He reached his hand over, stroking the silky inside of its pinkish ear. Droplets of likely poisonous rainwater sliding down his cheek.

“This is where I am in life, laying on the road with a dead rabbit.”

“Get out of the way kid!” A car horn shot into the cold sky.

__

Roman was resting his on his desk, a nightly ritual, clicking a back and golden pen irritably. He hated the sound when others did it, that annoying ‘click, clack, click’ it drove him mad. Yet, when he sat alone in his rooms, eyes flushed and puffy, there was nothing more comforting than such annoying novelty. He squished his face against the smooth wood, nose smushed irritably, hands running through his hair he really needed to wash.

Then there was a soft cooing outside of his window, a silent raven, soft knocking of trees swishing around in the kind wind. The feel of the pen snuggly knotted between reddened knuckles, a strange impulsiveness crawling through his skin. 

He sat up, staring down at the small pen, it had a tiny ruby crown perched atop. The companies name engraved in a rich gold along the smooth plastic, perfectly suited metal tip.

‘Click’ 

He held his arm up to the light, avoiding the bruises from his recent biking incident, pressing the pen onto a cluster of light freckles. He dug in, ink hurting slightly as he began to carve perfect cursive lettering, soft Js warm As serendipitous Ss.

There was just something too intricately charming to Roman about Janus. His almost theatrically tough clothes, that stupid smirk, and the way he carried himself as if the whole world was staring and he couldn’t be happier. Janus was strong and confident, everything Roman wished he could be. And that night sat out on Janus’s low roof, watching the stars, Roman felt like he could dump out the entire night sky and Janus would listen so intently he could recite the whole thing the next morning.

‘Janus’

Yet as he stared at the novel letters, he felt a strange feeling glimpse through his hand, a sliver of incompleteness. What could be missing? He pressed his pen once again against his skin, and before he could even think about what he was doing, a small L was imprinted right over a faint birthmark.

It’s not like they were his actual soulmates, what did it matter if he wrote another name?

Logan was rather stunning anyways, how his awkwardness crumpled into passion when given the right topic, the way he relaxed his uptight stance when he thought no one was watching, the poetry he hummed it himself walking down the hall. He didn’t know him very well, but he couldn’t help but feel a faint swelling as he let the idea of him being his soulmate dance through his mind.

‘Logan & Janus’

__

Roman wasn't a morning person 

He awoke to heavy mist hanging on the top of his ceiling. It was a churning grey, rippling and foaming like some sort of strange beast. He sighed, slamming his pillow over his face. He’d forgotten to close his window, if it was open even a little bit, his neighbors cigarette smoke would fill up his room, the same neighbor who often treated the road like an ashtray. 

He rubbed his eyes, a short pain rattling across his forehead. He threw off his blanket? Tossing it onto the dusty floorboards, legs tangled in the remaining sheets, hands cradling one of his five pillows. he ran his fingers through dark cinnamon.

Yawning, he slid off his bed, groggily stumbling over to the bathroom, and flicking on the light with a stormy frown. 

Splashing some water on his face he noticed some writing sitting in his right arm. “Must have forgotten to wash it off..” he mused tiredly, rubbing some water across his weak skin. 

It didn’t come off? 

He grabbed some soap, scrubbing a bit harder, a bit more frantically. 

It didn’t even smudge?

More soap, scalding water, a splash of nail polish remover. Nothing. His skin becoming red and irritated, a faint blue bruise lighting up the bold black writing. 

“Even my own pen is taunting me now..” he growled, slamming a sleeve over the words as he heard his parents yell for him. “What a way to start the week.”


	2. psychedelics don’t catch fish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some updates:
> 
> Just wanted to add in the spirit of not making the world feel small, I’ll probably be having characters mention random names, or short interactions with random characters. Though I don’t write ocs so they’ll just end up being plot devises really.
> 
> Also, I’ll probably be focusing on Logan next chapter, not sure what I’m going to do yet, but I’ll figure something out. (Story outline? Who’s she? Never heard of her)

Roman ran his hand through his dog's silky fur, her milk toast eyes flickering in the low light, floppy ears quivering slightly as she snuggled her nose into a tassel hanging of Romans soot colored boot. He’d gotten her only a month ago, she had been wandering through the streets, and despite his best intentions he ended up taking her home after leaving missing posters up for a week and a half. She was sweet, playful, and rather luckily a purebred sheepdog as he went on to lie to his friends about his parents getting the puppy for him from some high class breeder.

Of course, it’s not like he really had some deep inclination to show off that he was rich, but, it got him somewhere, made people see him as something, and the only thing he wanted more than not being a failure, was to be something.

He rested his arm across her back, pulling his phone out of where it was jammed into his pocket, hand clicking on the home button as he kicked his feet up on the faux leather ottoman. After a long Monday of overly complicated assignments, and mind melting lectures, he’d been planning to spend the day taking a walk or just relaxing downtown, then...he remembered the writing on his arm. 

He started googling about it, ‘how to remove ink from skin’, ‘Can ink be permanent?’ ‘Ink won’t wash off?’ ‘How to not crush on the head of the debate team????’ Stuff like that. 

“I’m screwed Rose, this is my life now, I’m just stuck with these damm names on my arm.” Roman drawled, laying back on the couch over dramatically, head resting atop his forehead.

“Bork?”

__

Half an hour of scrubbing hairspray, soap, and just about anything on his arm, he decided to just go clear his head. 

Roman sat lazily on the dock, his legs swung over the side, hands tethered to the sleek medal of his fishing rod. He’d been fishing since he was only around 5 years old; hot summer mornings pulling up large trout; late spring nights sleepily resting his head on the side of his dad's boat; or grinding winter afternoons  
smashing holes in the ice with the nearest rock. Though by now it wasn’t that he had a particular interest in fishing, he just happened to have a huge one in procrastination with a side of nostalgia. 

Roman studied the water, Swift whirls of cattail fluff floated across the valiant blue surface, swirling and elegant like tiny swans. Thick grothes of seaweed floated up from the murky pond floor, lily pads clad with hoary blossoms, a baby turtle perched atop a floating mossy log. And then there were the less (natural?) additions, a half eaten moldy mango only slightly visabel where it lay buried in the mud, a plastic bag surfing off in the distance, and an old soda can squished between the rotting wood that made up the spry dock.

“Roman?” A voice asked, steps stomping over slender oak, the laugh and a half of a harbor shaking as the someone walked over and took an abrasive seat next to him, a cigarette held gingerly between his thumb and pointer.

“If you're going to sit next to me Snake, that’s going to have to be put out.” Roman grumbled rather irritably, rubbing his hand across his forehead, a slight migraine poking at the edges of his course flesh, a cold breeze licking his cheeks

“Oh Roman, always such a downer.” Janus drawled, snuffing out the small spark in the palm of his glove, ash from previous snuffs staining the firm yellow fabric, then tucking the cigarette into his back pocket with a drawn out sigh. He was dressed in a back unzipped hoodie, mute yellow shirt with a greenish scale pattern. His brown hair released from its usual cage of a hat, jungles of curls sticking up in a maddening manor.

“I’m not throwing my life away. How do you even obtain them when you're underage?” Roman growled slightly, watching as his line moved slightly, but the pull that would lead him to reeling anything in stayed absent. So he continued to watch, lips pursed, eyes resolutely locked with the small wrinkles in the perfect forest painted across the surreal blue.

“I know people, and I may be throwing my life away or something, but you're failing half your classes.” He grinned snidely, flashing his inhumanly sharp teeth, blowing a puff of smoke into the afternoon sun, eyes thin like a dragon.

‘And I wanted to be your soulmate???’

“Can I get a break.” Roman half hissed, half whispered, hands gripping tighter around his fishing rod, barely resisting the urge to tear it out of the water and stick the hook on Janus’s eye. Next time. He shrugged it off, playing with the fishing line, feeling the arms of his backpack digging into his shoulder blades. 

“What was that?” Janus asked, even though Roman was sure he heard. Shoes kicking back fourth through the water, a bit splashing onto Romans face, causing his frown to deepen.

“Nothing.” Roman responded, hugging his arms around himself. The once stunning scenery was taking on a slight grey, a small cloud slipping perfectly over the sun, the sound of squirrels rustling through the surrounding flora becoming a bit more annoying, he shivered.

“If you're sure.” Janus smiled playfully before eagerly getting to his feet, brushing some hair out of his face with a malicious grin. “So there's this party tonight with a few friends and since we have the day off tomorrow I was thinking...maybe you’d come with me?” Janus asked, hand brushing the back of his neck. 

“Will you let me fish in peace if I go?” Roman asked, or rather pleaded, eyes taking on a mixed expression.

“I’ll pick you up at 6.” 

“Sounds splendid.”

___

“Oh, are you going somewhere Romeo?” Remus smirked, hanging in the bathroom doorway as Roman forced a comb through his tangled locks. Remus had his average but always terrifying look glitzing through his murky brown eyes, a streak of grey hair hanging over crumpled freckles, texting someone absentmindedly.

“Romeo?” Roman asked, quirking his brow slightly as he propped his hair up with an excess of hairspray, forcing the urge to cough the chemicals that gave him down his tight throat. He honestly wanted nothing less than to go to a party, he was already exhausted, and he didn’t even know why?

“Yeah, cause he dies at the end.” Remus chuckled, walking over and taking a seat on the counter, putting a bit more focus into the screen of his phone. And as Roman placed the comb down with a slight click, he could see Patton’s contact typing on the other end. Of course, they were inseparable after all.

“He died because he loved someone, I don’t get to love someone…” Roman mumbled to himself in average theater kid fashion, looking around the brightly lit bathroom, counter covered in a mess of shampoo, tooth brushes, and hair combs, a miracle they found anything in there. 

“That’s not true, there’s 2 names on your arm right there.” Remus smirked, only gifting Roman a half glance. “You're just keeping it hidden since you're having a hard time coming to terms with it.” He smirked oddly sweetly, kicking his legs back in four in that silly innocent manor.

“I-“ Roman sputtered, feeling a pulse of fear strikethrough his far too tight feeling skin, drawing a sharp inhale into his bruised lungs, taking a steadying breath, then another, ok maybe three more. “No I don’t.” He argued simple, grabbing his jacket and pulling it roughly over his arms, quickly racing out of the room slamming the door behind him.

“Have fun on your date!”

___

“So who’s hosting this again?” Roman asked, slouching against the passenger window, it was slightly askew so he could feel the wind burst against his freckles, filling the car with the airy smell of burnt strawberries. He wasn’t truly too interested in who was hosting it, he just needed some simple pleasantries to block out Janus’s god awful music.

“Gold ol Orange.” Janus laughed, the same way he laughed whenever he said that poor kid's name. Though to be fair, Janus had revealed to him a month back that his parents had actually been dead set on naming him Deceit. Then the hospital nurse gave his mom a weird look and she said it was a joke then blurted out the first ‘normal’ name that came to mind. (Roman isn’t sure if that’s actually how it went down since he wasn't fully listening when Janus told the story, but he thinks it sounds pretty believable.)

“Gosh, you should hear what Remus has been calling him, do you know how awful living with him can be? Sometimes I question if we’re actually related.” Roman dragged, thinking about when Remus went around yelling, ‘I gotta meet this ‘Orgey’ kid.’ with a shiver. He looked out the window for comfort, they were passing one of the condemned houses, walls rugged, windows cracked, a broken chair laid out in the front garden.

“Nah, you're definitely adopted.” Janus’s cackled sarcastically, swerving around a truck that was clearly under the speed limit, did the town actually have a speed limit? Not like anyone would follow it.

“Why did I agree to go with you again?” Roman groaned, leaning into his seat as he stuffed his hand into his jacket pockets, fiddling haphazardly with his almost dead phone. A mix of not being able to find the charger and also just not caring.

“Cause I’m a sweetheart and you love my company.” Janus smirked, sarcasm dripping from his lips and rolling off his surprisingly natural forked tongue. Then, as the car whizzed around the corner, there was some loud yelling coming from one of the small trailer parks, it almost sounded like someone was dying, which wouldn't be too much of a surprise. “They're almost as loud as the kids at Chess club!”

“Chess club???!” Roman asked, things didn’t surprise him much, but..that sounded rather curious.

“I know, I can barely believe it myself. I joined so I could touch up some of my skills, I am a three year champion for the lo-“

“I get it, you're a great chess player.” Roman rolled his eyes, though a small smirk was present at the edges of his faux glare. 

“As I was saying, after I went to the first meeting I was met with two kids literally screaming their heads off. And I went up and told them chess matches are supposed to be quiet and let me tell you, I barely managed to drag myself out of there, chess pieces are deadly projectiles!” 

“They really checkmated you.”

—

The party was being held in a rather sketchy house on the other side of town, and as Roman and Janus made their way inside, I’ll assure you, it was even sketchier. There was a disco ball taped (with scotch tape, freaking scotch tape!) to the living room ceiling, a bunch of money laying on the kitchen counter, someone conked out on the floor, and music so loud Roman thought his ears might legit burst. 

“Alright so I’m going to go check on some friends, don’t get killed.” Janus smirked rather seriously, his voice barely audible beneath the music, screaming and banging going on in the next room, (like actually banging, someone smashing a chair or something against the floor.) 

“Not even going to ask me for a dance?” Roman smirked rather sarcastically, attempting to stuff the sudden social anxiety down the back of his throat. He wasn’t a nervous person, but everything just felt so overwhelming. 

“You wish.” Janus said with a bold grin, then he stepped away into the mass of bodies. Walking away with that usual flair, shoes scooting slyly across the slippery wood floor, hair bobbing beneath his light yellow beanie, hands hung purposefully in the pockets of his obsidian pants. 

And as he stood there knowing no one, and without a car to leave in, there was only one word to describe how he felt, miserable (That word might ot be strong enough either). Maybe his life just depended on a proficient sense of misery, like how painful wounds melt into heroic battle scars, or only after one's tongue has been burned does tea feel satisfying. 

He eventually found himself sitting off in the corner of the living room, amusing himself watching a group of strangers play spin the bottle and just enjoying being alone. 

Until he wasn’t.

“Hey, Roman?”

The face looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. The teen was dressed in a dark purple hoodie with black patches sewn crudely onto the sleeves and hood. He had brown hair, tips dyed a sinister plum, deep green eyes, and a light smile that looked almost intimidating as it met his heavy eyes shadow. 

“Yes, who are you?” Roman asked rather bluntly as the emo only chuckled taking a seat across from him at the small table, hands fidgeting as the rested top the calm wood. 

“My name is Virgil Storm, yes that’s my full first name umm but you can just call me Virge. I’m rather good friends with your brother, Remus.” He smiled shyly, fiddling with a lock of hair, he seemed rather awkward. “My brother is the party host and you're the only one I know or know of here..” He added coyly.

“Oh well it's nice to meet you, any friend of my brother, I well don’t understand how you stand him.” He laughed slightly, a smile slipping into a small glare. “And yeah, I’m kinda stuck here as well, not sure why I agreed to come.”

“Friend drag you?” Vigril asked, relaxing slightly, head still shadowed by his hood.

“Yeah, and speaking of said friend..” he looked over, and as he’d expected Janus was sitting over on the couch with a bunch of randos and a glass of whine, mixed with cereal….? “I’ll see you around Virgil, I think it’s time to head out…” he sighed, the emo shooting him a sympathetic glance as he walked over to collect his barely concise friend.

“He Ro Ro, howssss wasss you…” Janus slurred as Roman bent over so Janus could sling his arm over the ‘Princes’ shoulder, feeling a jittery hand cling to the back of his hoodie. Janus..was like that a lot. He’d raid his parents room and sit out on his friends porch drinking till they both conked out laying in the wet grass. It honestly made Roman rather uneasy, for as much as he hated to admit it… he worried, he worried a sizable amount.

“Shhh.” Roman tiredly growled, heaving Janus along, wrapping his hands around his friends waist to keep him from falling over. They had made it out of the house and were now stumbling down the empty street, music still blaring behind them. Roman sighed, Janus’s car was in sight, but there was still a long ride ahead, the smell of liquor in Janus’s heavy breathing. “Who's the downer now..” he added to himself with a sparse glare.

“I don’t wanna go ssssssshhh.” He defended grumpily, head slumping against Romans shoulder, his forum taking a brief brightness as they walked past a streetlight. The light lit up the many lines running down his thin arms, the murky faded blotches, feverish scares no one dared notice, or if they did, would be damned if a peep about it slipped their clandestine lips. Janus was just oddly good at keeping people shut up, it was almost impressive.

“What am I doing… I have a script to memorize, math homework to do…!” Roman half yelled, pulling Janus along, the liar's shoes scraping against the rough ground. He pulled open the door to the passenger seat, Janus sliding, or well flopping in, head crashing dreamily onto the head rest.

Roman sighed for what felt like the hundredth times that night, slamming the door closed before going to open the opposite, hands crashing down against the steering wheel. “Am Issss a burden?” Janus suddenly asked, his voice soft but oddly heavy, the strangeness of the tone nearly causing Roman to slam on the breaks in surprise.

“Yes” Roman started sternly, his usual dramatics fading into the darkness “...but if we’re going to be friends, I guess you're my burden..” Roman huffed, not even shooting Janus a glance as he pulled the car out of its parking spot and began calmly drifting down the lonesome street. Midnight air rolled in through Janus’s half open window, filling the car with a smell reminiscent of dead skunk and lavender. Delightful. 

“Wait, do youssss have a license?”

“Heck no!”


	3. Bitter-sweetheart

The classroom was uncomfortably tight. The beige walls forebodingly close, the four small group tables cramped together with only enough room for students to squeeze between them. Roman as normal sat in the back, stuffed into a small chair with his book back hung over the back rest, elbows leaning on the almost unbearably cold metal table top. The teacher was rambling on about something but he couldn’t care less, much more concerned with going over his lines in his head for an audition.

“..And for the upcoming poetry project you will divide yourself into pairs. Does anyone have any questions?” The teacher said, her crisp tone suddenly coming into Romans focus, hitting him like a brick. He, well to put it bluntly, was never a fan of group projects, was anyone? He’d be roped in with a bunch of strangers who’d usually end up bailing half way leaving him to do double the work than a single assignment would have entailed. 

He continued doodling in his book, covering his rather lackluster notes with doodles of dragons, castles, and an obnoxious amount of little stars. For most of his tests or homework he usually just ended up using his brother's notes anyways, his brother who got his notes from Patton. It was a surprisingly accurate game of telephone. 

“Roman?” A voice asked from the table in front causing him to startel slightly, shooting up from his sketch book to see Logan giving him a friendly frown. Logan had been in his English class all year, but they didn't interact much. It was strange really, Roman would have expected Logan to be in honors English like most of his other classes. 

“Hmm?” Roman hummed, looking up as he studied the strange transparency resting in Logan’s cool blue eyes, hands holding a book (on microbes) tight against his lavender blue clad chest, hair slightly disgruntled. He looked nervous,

“Would you like to be my partner?” He sounded nervous.

“Sure nerd.” He was definitely nervous. 

Logan nodded, holding his head as he left his seat in exchange for one next to Roman, backs straightening against the chair placing his book down, brushing a lock of ink hair out of his face in a seemingly superfluous manor. He turned open his notebook, revealing the most beautiful notes Roman had ever laid eyes on, the Mona Lisa of school scripture. Then he flipped to a free page, and Roman almost felt disappointed. 

“So the teacher should be bringing around the slips shortly. Any thoughts on what type of poem we should do?” Logan asked dryly, expression flickering like a candle, his feet hugging the legs of his chair.

“Slips?” Roman asked incredulously, tilting his head slightly, looking into Logan's frame for some sort of answer. 

“Were you paying attention when the teacher explained the assignment?” Logan almost deadpanned, and after waiting a few moments for a response he just let out a short sigh. Pushing his glasses up his nose shooting Roman a disappointed lour before jumping into his explain-y tone. “The project entails us being given a slip of paper containing three random words that must be the focus point of the poem we must construct in the next few days.” Logan relayed, a hint of revelry in his explanation. 

“Oh.” Roman said with a glimpse of realization, feeling a bit embarrassed he’d zoned out the teacher's entire lecture.”we should do a sonnet.” He said, “Something romantic like ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer's day’” he smiled dreamily.

“Here.” The teacher handed a small piece of crumpled paper down between them. It had three words printed crudely atop its smudged surface. ‘Dessert, Automatic,’ and to top it of ‘urgency’. 

Logan gently picked up the note, carefully unwrinkling it as he stared contemplatively at the drabble pasted quickly across its thin surface. He gave it a short unconscious nod before placing it down in front of Roman with a blank gaze. “I don’t believe these words are very inherently ‘romantic’.” He said with a pinch of sympathy.

Roman slumped in his seat, head falling onto the table dramatically, face smooshing into the table that smelled deeply of spray cleaner, the chemical aroma burning into his senses. “I’m out of ideas.” He huffed.

“Well I usually come up with ideas by compiling a list, it’s become an important part of my creative process in most artsy endeavors.” Logan said as he started writing a few things down his notebook, pencil moving quick and purposefully like a human typewriter.

“I guess things just sorta come to me..” Roman sighed, leaning up a bit, cupping his chin in his hand as he admired Logan's quick work. 

“So when I saw the word automatic I thought about robots.” He said emphasizing his list that was compiled of words that had to do with metal and machinery. “Though, I’m not sure how desert could fit in there.” He mused thoughtfully.

Roman thought for a second. 

“What if the desert was the robot!” Roman suddenly exclaimed, shooting up from his slump with a small grin.

“What?”

“Ok so what if the desert is actually made of mechanical parts or something. And we could confuse the reader by switching between describing a machine and describing a dessert.”

“That’s oddly fascinating.”

‘So are you.’

“What can I say, i'm a talented poet.”

__

Roman was stuck up in the bathroom. The last few days had been to be honest, terrifying. There is only so long one can truly fumble around like a clueless moran. He stared at them, the perfectly cursive letters painted across a now rather bruised, canvas. He’d never thought he’d start to hate his own handwriting, but life is full of surprises.

He’d been thinking, each morning as he came out of the shower, water spilling like tears from his scraggly mane, ink bold and profound. He’d wrap a towel around himself, shivering as he sat on the cold counter, pressing a hand to the name reflected in the glass. Touching his physical arm had become enough prick tears into the corners of his hazel irises. 

He’d really gotten his soul mark, and it was the worst feeling he’d ever felt.

Was it a sign, a punishment for being jealous of his brother, or just some cruel trick of fate, maybe that’s why it was thundering, if there was a god his laughter was probably hard enough to shake the sky, soon tears of joy would form the brooding clouds. Or, was it predisposed, predetermined, fate. 

Was it fate that he had to love, and fate that they’d never love him back.

Janus already had one, his soulmate lived across the world so they had been having a rough time, but they were managing. Sending each other cute letters, fighting against the time zone difference by staying up really late or waking up really early to send sweet goodnight/good mornings. It was beautiful. Janus and Evelyn were beautiful together.

Logan on the other hand, he didn’t want a soulmate, and he didn’t deserve to be stuck with a fumbling idiot ether. He was calm, cool, and far too smart. He’d gone to one of his debates a few days ago, he had some free time before drama club. The debate had always had an open audience anyways, and there was something too beautiful about the vigor burning in his voice, the collective and clear arguments. He was beautiful.

Roman wasn't beautiful.

There was a knock door.

Roman gave the mirror one more forsaken glance before rushing out into the hallway. It was likely Remus He often forgot or even that one time sold his house key, and he had gone out over to Patton’s. Roman sighed, his recent epiphany wouldn’t make seeing Patton and his brother together any easier, god he felt ill.

Roman tore open the door, hand tightening painfully around the firm handle, face looking worriedly pale “hey Re-“ he stopped. Standing on the other end of the door was Logan.

His usuals dress shirt was absent. He was wearing a cleanly pressed dark blue sweater, lighter stripes with intelligible patterns sewn into the warm wool. His hair was crooked if hair could be such, not its usual perfection. There was reddening under his eyes, a fluster, almost as if he’d been crying. His mouth was pursed uncomfortably, in a way one would guess his teeth were clamped around his tongue. A distorted painting wrapped into the frame of the door.

“Logan, are you ok?” Roman asked, the ‘how did you find my address?’ Still hanging on his tongue but becoming a bit less poignant as it moved a few steps back in his queue of questions. 

“Yes, I am perfectly fine. I simply thought we could spend some time on the poem. I didn’t have your number but Virgil gave me your address, sorry if you're busy.” He stated, tone wavering like his throat had become some sort of voice changing mice, shifting every few seconds to a new setting.

“Yeah that’s fine, come in..” Roman said standing back as Logan slowly made his way inside. There was confusion ettling on his nervous smile. He was honestly rather taken aback, he’d never seen Logan so, upset? He didn’t really know how to place it.

Roman led him up the stairs, shooting curious glances over at his classmate, hand running absentmindedly over the stair rail. Reaching the top of the stairs he led him to the end of the hall, showing him into his room. “Here, this is my room..” Roman said taking a seat on his bed, Logan taking a courteous seat next to him. 

Romans room contained fluffy white walls with half red half golden trim running along the bottom. It was small and square, bed tucked against the right wall, deep red velvet covers tousled and unkempt. There was a large picture window opposite the door, the left side of his room shroud in shelves of books and small gadgets. There was a dresser/bedside table shoved against his bed, and Finally posters taped all over the walls and even ceiling, predominantly disney. 

“Here, I brought my notes and I made a small draft hope that’s ok.” Logan said, voice rather muffled.

“Yeah that's great!” Roman smirked, trying to force his worry down his throat, attempting to turn his focus to the notebook placed gingerly in his hands. The writing was oddly rugged, though still easily readable. There were few tear-like stains on the smooth lined paper.

‘The sun wavers, robotic rust, fire, yell  
Gold glitz, silent machine, robust plant life  
Scaled creature, made of oil, molded metal  
The sun burned, abrasive ash, automatic rife’

“It’s..it’s a sonnet.” Roman smirked, eyes falling into the  
simple rhythm of the syllables, the toughness of the text adding some sort of addition to the cold feeling lyrics. 

“It’s not very Romantic.”

“No it’s not ‘very’ Romantic, it's just the perfect amount of Romance.”

The two spent the rest of the afternoon, sitting in relative silence as they exchanged ideas wrapped in whispers, or rugged drafts scratched from hidden claws onto the paper sentenced to their creative whims. And by the time Remus did actually show up (and knock on the door since he had lost his key), Logan had returned to his usual self. 

“I guess I’ll be going then. Are you sure you can finish the last bit on your own?” Logan asked as the two trailed down the stairs, a slow purpose bound in each step. 

“Of course.” Roman smirked, hopping down the last steps, then wishing he didn’t as his sock clad foot kicked slammed against the hard floor. 

Leading Logan over to the front door, opening it up to state at the foreboding weather. It had been thundering all day but not a drop of rain, a dry thunderstorm. It had this inherent fear laced into the dark clouds. 

Logan thanked him before going out the door and making his way down the driveway, and as the two exchanged one more glance, Roman had to dig his nails into his arm to stop himself from yelling a finale 

‘Are you really alright?’ 

——

“Finished the poem.” Roman smirked, slamming a printed paper down on the table. He was tired after staying up all night trying to finish it. Yet as Logan began skimming through it he felt strangely energetic. 

Logan frowned, taking a short breath before reading it to himself as the class fell into its usual chatter before the teacher showed up. 

“The robot that had to desert 

The sun wavers, robotic rust, fire, yell  
Gold glitz, silent machine, robust plant life  
Scaled creature, made of oil, molded metal  
The sun burned, abrasive ash, automatic rife

The night falls, hiss of superficial limbs.  
You rest, coddle, now you're safe, the stars protect you.  
Water hidden in your stomach, bleak rims  
Sleep, programmed desolate, iron plateau 

Clouds rise, Heroic traveler pass you by,  
Noon hangs like old sweat, a vaillant mirage  
Do not cry, your body will fade, circuits fry  
walking stick, gears, heat, cords you can’t dislodge

Desert force of nature, earth's boiling pot  
A robot that by nature became too hot.” 

He finished with a soft smile, it might have been the first time Roman had seen him smile, it sent butterflies through his stomach. 

—

Newlake wasn’t rich when it came to tourist attractions. It wasn't even that town you stop at on that long and dull summer road trip everyone gets dragged on at least once in their lifetime. At best it was a place to stop in and grab gas while you felt an impending sense that you were going to be mugged, actually scratch that, you were definitely going to be mugged.

Newlake was built on two very special Rs, Respect Rules and. And anyone who wasn’t from there, was bound to break one. 

Anyone who could defend themselves, carried a knife crafted from an old bottle of liquor, was respected. Someone who could perform highly in school was respected. And a person who could show both a fierce gritt yet the ability to also show a deep amount of respect, was respected.

It was a rule that you didn’t mess with anyone who had a pool lest you be left to the harsh summer heat. It was a rule you left people who just moved in alone for at least a week or so like some sort of grace period. It was a rule that those were strong got to be on top, and those who were weak got to be their lap dogs. And it was a rule that the small hiking trail in the edge of town was a litter free zone.

And as Roman and Janus sat together in the picnic area found halfway up the trail, they could see it stayed true to that.

The picnic bench was shrouded in lush grass poking through thin veils of burnt leaves. There was a heavy oak tree towering over proactively, the whistle of a woodpecker. It was so strange, when one shroud themselves deep within the trail they could completely forget the world it belonged to. The entire forest had its own culture, it’s own rules, and its own type of respect.

“..And that’s how me and Logan made the most fabulous poem.” Roman smirked, finishing his story. He and Janus' friendship was just like that, they would spend a few days apart, then return with tales of their absence. 

“Yeah, I really like the part here you kept mentioning how pretty Logan's eyes were.”

“Shut up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a scrapped exchange of dialogue if anyone’s interested:
> 
> “The same reason this is my worst class, I’m not very creative.” Logan sighed.
> 
> “You gotta give yourself a bit more credit, Teach.”
> 
> “Teach?”
> 
> “Taught me more than I’ve learned in this class all year.”
> 
> “Why thank-“
> 
> “But your just as nerdy.”


	4. Knock on wood

“So I have to come..” Roman subsided finger smoothing circles into the corner of his sleeve, sharp wood digging into his legs as they hung over the porch steps. There was a cup of lemonade pressed into his left hand, pleasantly cold condensation dripping down the glass and pooling in a crook in his wrist. It felt nice, the lemony sweetness sailing down his throat, dry heat pressing uncomfortably against his pout. He’d decided it wouldn’t be too bad to spend some time with his brother, especially out in the unnatural fall heat. He was wrong.

“We used to go to them when we were young, it’ll be fun I swear.” Remus grinned, his single snarled tooth sticking out menacingly, naturally grey hair blowing in the faint breeze, a small patch of freckles dotting only the right half of his face. He was dressed in a sleeveless black shirt with a whale depicted on the back, black shorts with lime accents, and a blue friendship bracelet tied next to the words printed half way up his arm. 

“When we were young we ran around the house in nothing but diapers but I don’t see you suggesting we do that.” Roman growled, giving his brother a harsh glare, sweat dripping down his chin. 

“I mean-“ Remus started, smirking maliciously. 

“Don’t finish that.” Roman snarled, pulling his legs up to his chest, cradling them as he wrapped both his hands around his glass, it was at least 80 degrees. And honestly, he had half the mind to just go back inside, slam the door, hide in his room for the rest of the weekend, lose himself in his work, the whole shebang. Yet, there was something telling him to stay, telling him he couldn’t keep running away, being so pathetic, jealousy? Pathetic.

“Fine, fine, what if I don’t say anything horrible all week?” He smiled pleadingly, the shark he seemed to mimicking taking on the whimper of an abandoned puppy. He was really good at that, emotions, opinions, personality, changing on a dime. It was terrifying. Like the time he’d been explaining to Roman how he’d fair as a serial killer, then Patton showed up, and all he wanted to talk about was cute kittens and pretty rainbows. 

“You think I’m going to believe that a second time?” Roman sighed, thinking back to the time he’d let Remus barrow his laptop for a school project, that, to put it bluntly, was a dumpster fire. He tried to block his brother out of his gaze, looking off Into the brightly lit streets, clusters of dead leaves toasting atop the hot tar, kids a few doors down setting up a kiddy pool and sprinkler system. 

“Roman, the Soul festival is fun if you have a soulmate or not, and I want to spend time with my boyfriend and my brother.” He burst out, a sincere tinge wrapping around the in Romans opinion, a rather detestable statement. As if it was his status as older brother, inherit that he had to be his brother's little pet, someone to laugh with, only to ditch so he could go off and kiss Patton beneath the fireworks. 

“Well to darn bad.” Roman huffed, stomping up and storming inside with his held high, fists clenched so tight phantoms danced across his knuckles. And in the chaos, he kicked over his lemonade, the now lukewarm juice splattering over old wood, dripping down onto the cracked sidewalk where ants could feast upon the sour sugar. 

___

Anima day, it's on the 13th of September, the precursor to a celebratory week known as Soul week. It is the time of every year when everyone comes together and attends festivals, has family meals, and sets off fireworks and sparklers to celebrate the reunions, passings, bonds, and yet to be, soulmates. 

There are quite a lot of traditions associated with the holiday that differ around the world, but the some of the most common are: Purchasing Apple themed goodies/apple branches, as a the fruit is in season, the apple is for partly this reason often called the fruit of love: Its seen as tradition to stay up all night with your soulmate gazing at the stars, legend says if you look long enough, the universe will make a star just for your union: And finally a lot of venders at fairs or just your regular grocery store tend to sell century eggs wrapped in pretty heart shaped boxes, it’s said if you eat one, it will ensure you and your soulmate will be happy for the next hundred years. 

It all made Roman want to crawl up in a ball, hide under the sheets, and try to forget how to breathe. 

Roman sighed, none of those options happened to be available though, so he pushed on. Spending the rest of the day hunched over at his writing desc, his favorite musical playlist blasting as he lost himself in another one of his creative works. He’d been on a spree of writing scenery lately, reveling in the stories painted across each leaf, siren shreek pressed into each bounding wave.

Art had always been his place to escape, why worry over friendships when your heroine had innocents to save, what of school work when you had a stack of blank canvases, one act plays to recite to himself. It was a mentality he’d held since he was young, and one just about everyone around him couldn’t stand. Janus had actually thrown a bouncy ball at his window after he’d ignored his texts for the 3 weeks, said next time it would be a rock, Roman said he was counting on it. 

Maybe that’s why he always got himself associated with the title of a lone wolf. He didn’t agree. Sure he didn’t have many friends, but he still sat with people at lunch, got invited to birthday parties (that he turned down) laughed with buds from the drama club. He was confident, extroverted, and proud, what did it matter if he was happy to be all that mostly to himself. 

Sloppy knocks crashed against his door, the silence before the storm. 

Roman grumbled, not even bothering to give the likely soon to be busted door a glance goodbye. He just needed to settle his own head, he needed to calm down, and Remus- he was leaving? No yelling, breaking, whining, he left, steps sliding solemnly away from his room and down the stairs. 

He just left?

—

Roman scooted into the kitchen, he was still clad in his red pajamas, deep red with tiny golden crowns. His hair was tousled and messy, eyes sunk, a sleepy wobble to his slow steps. He shifted across the cold tiles, grabbing the handle of the fridge as he looked over at Remus who hadn’t said a peep.

He sighed inwardly, staring as his younger brother poked at the toast like a bird to spring dew. “Remus?” Roman asked, taking out the milk and slamming it down on the counter. 

“Roman?” Remus answered, knife stabbing into the crunchy wheat, bright strawberry jam squirting out like blood.

“I’ll go..” Roman answered, he sounded like he was confessing to a murder. “..To the festival thing I mean.”

“Really?!”

“Sure.”

—-

The festival was held in the park located in town square. It was a clear area of grass with few but poignant trees, the field ending where it met with a large lake, disappearing off into various hiking trails that circled the rest of the body of water. 

The field was decked with small stands selling various types of food and other small novelties, there were plenty of places where people could and were setting up picnic blankets, the lake was open for swimming, and the town had even managed to put up a Ferris wheel at the center of the park, though it didn’t appear to be running yet.

Remus and Patton were marching ahead of Roman, hands interlocked as they swung their arms back and forth, marching around looking at everything and anything. Patton even made them stop for a few minutes to admire a ladybug sitting on a blade of grass that he had nearly squashed. 

Roman on the other hand was far enough back one could assume he didn’t even know the pair. He was slouched over grumpily, face almost entirely hidden by his red and black plaid scarf. It had been unnaturally hot yesterday and somehow in only fifteen or so hours it had dropped to only 40 degrees. He shivered, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, attempting to force down the knot in his throat.

He’d agreed to come, he wanted to be a good brother for once, he wanted to be happy for them, but he just couldn’t…

The group found themselves sitting at a small picnic table by the lake. Patton and Remus we’re sharing a slice of apple pie as they talked on and on about the latest school drama. Roman just sat there barely listening, he had a some tea with far to much sugar than he would have liked, numb fingers gripping into the warm cup. 

“...And then I said, ‘As if’ and he just lunged at me, it was like he’d gone full feral or something.” Remeus laughed proudly, he was showing of a wound on his arm like it was some sort of battle scar, by the sound of it maybe it was.

“That’s very impressive, but you really need to be more careful, I don’t want you getting hurt all the time.” Patton soothed, studying the bruise with a disgruntled frown.

“I can handle it.” Remus protested as Patton started asking him about properly bandaging it. Remus never liked taking care of his wounds, Roman just assumed he liked looking as if he’d just fallen out of a horror movie on a regular basis.

“I know..” Patton sighed, laying an arm over Remus as he leaned against his boyfriends shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his forehead. But Roman had stopped paying attention a while ago, instead his eyes floating around the bright lights, studying the different brands and styles of jackets worn by the ever increasing crowd, chewing the side of his cup. Anything sounded better than this. 

Then, there was the quick glimpse of a beaten dark purple coat, silver yellow buttons, a black hat with a small yellow puffball sticking out the top. “Janus?” Roman asked himself, straining his eyes as he attempted to sense the mass of color. Then he said it a bit louder, “Janus?!” And a head poked out of the flustered glob, hair falling over the darker half of his face as his heterochromia started at Roman for a few moments before a small smirk pursed his lips.

“Roman?” He smiled, slyly walking over as the love birds failed to notice, far too engrossed in something Roman didn’t have the mind to listen to. He flopped down next to Roman resting his arm against the table as he let out a small yawn, “Didn’t think I’d see you here.” He grinned bearing his teeth. 

“likewise, wanna help me ditch these two?” Roman smiled, hiding the relief that washed over him.

“I was counting on it.” Janus said with his token snarky smile. He and Roman then got up and started to walk around through the fair grounds. The disinterest that has once rattled through him evaporating into the late afternoon, drawn to everything like a kid in a candy shop.

Though as the day grew older, Roman found himself taking a bit of a backseat from the festivities, really thinking quite a bit about the whole soulmate thing, particularly how it’s meaning had evolved since he’d first heard it. 

When he was young the word was thrown around sure, but he never really grasped. Then, his dad called him over after dinner one spring night. Remus was in bed so he and his dad were sitting out on the porch watching a thunderstorm. ‘...it’s a special name or names that belong to the person/people that your meat to be with..’ and he’d gone on, finishing his explanation with one thing, ‘but the most important thing to remember, your soulmate experience is yours, and whatever happens, it’s good.’ 

He’d spent the rest of his life having everyone beat that last piece of advice out of him. Having people tell him all the ways soulmates could be wrong. Though he never took much to heart, politics were politics, so maybe some people thought off the grid marriage should be banned (Off the grid marriage refers to marriage between two people who aren't soulmates) or that having multiple soulmates meant you only got choose one, or that same genders soulmates were a sign of the devil. It’s not like Roman let any of that affect him, until it did.

He’d been sitting under the playground with a few other kids, they’d been trading sweets and he had a lollipop  
to offer. Than, they’d gotten on the topics of soulmates,

“My dad told me if you do love those who aren't your soulmates that eventually their names will appear on your skin in blood red ink. They will cover you from head to toe, and eventually drown you in a whole pool of bloody ink!”

“I heard you can get names that are the same gender. That’s a sign you're not deserving of a real soulmate.”

“Jason told me I’m not deserving of a soulmate.”

“Well Jason’s soulmate is just going to be his own name, I saw him stare for a whole 10 minutes at himself in the locker room.”

“Hey!” 

It made Roman sick, so he left, he walked away and never talked to those kids again. But the conversation stuck with him, running through his head like a broken record. 

“Hey Roman, want to see something cool?” Janus asked, causing Roman to burst out of his thoughts. 

“Sure.” Roman smiled coyly. 

Then Roman heard someone call his name. 

He and Janus were standing at the edge of the field, in front of one of the hiking trails, pinkish yellow hues streamed through the air. And running, wait no, walking at a quick but steady speed, was Logan. He had on a puffy black coat with blue lining in the hood, recently pressed black pants, and a sputtered expression. 

“Hey Roman..” he huffed, taking a moment to breathe, his cold eyes flashing some sort of mix of worry and cheerfulness.

“Oh Logan, you're here too? Guess Hwen must be well known for this festival, it’s my first time.” Roman said, looking back and forth between Janus and Logan oddly shyly.

“Actually it’s due to the Newlake one being cancelled since a few kids spray painted the field, this is the closest festival to our district. We all live on or near Cherry lane, correct?” Logan explained.

“Yeah that fits the bill. So are you the infamous Logan?” Janus smirked, stepping a bit closer with a sinister beat in his slow steps.

“Infa...mous?” Logan gulped nervously, 

“Ha, he actually believed it.” Janus laughed as Roman just stood there looking extremely awkward. “I’m Janus Dee. Though that might be rather obvious seeing as you know where I live.” He smirked, extending his hand as Logan shook it gingerly.

“Logan Flint, well you're Romans neighbor, he’s talked well of you.” Logan smiled pulling his hand away from the handshake. “I thought it would be nice to say hi but I’m only here to take notes for a school essay..so I should probably be headed home.” He added with a polite bow before disappearing off into the crowd as everyone exchanged some quick goodbyes. 

“So that's Logan? yeah I see why he caught your fancy, he’s pretty cute.” 

“You're insufferable.”

“As I try to be”

—

“So where is this ‘thing’ you wanted to show me?” Roman groaned, swatting a branch out of his face. Janus had led him down a hiking trail for what felt like hours, then he’d dragged him off the trail into the woods for what felt like a millennium.

“why don’t you tell me.” Janus answered promptly as they both walked through a few bushes and found themselves atop a steep plateau, and in the middle, a grand oak tree.

The tree was huge, massive trunk stretching up into a kingdom for brown flora, moss and ivy growing in the velvet groves in the shape bark, sap dripping and pooling in small nooks, spilling down only to harden, like frozen waterfalls. The branches were so full of old bird nests that they’d seem to have grown into the tree only adding to its impressive size. A kite was tangled in the highest leaves, the colorfully purple and yellow waving in the sky, soaring with the sweet wind.

But none of that compared to the true majesty of the beast, the thousands upon billions of names etched into the honey bark. ‘Drew x Maddison’ ‘Angela x lula’ ‘RL x NY’ ‘JJ x Louise’ ‘R x J’ there were so many, handwriting (or knife writing?) varying from in-depth cursive to crude scribbles. And the more Roman stared at it, the more he wanted his name to join its ranks. It was like it’s own little universe. It was like a doorway and at the end was everything he ever wanted,

And he didn’t have the key.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it? I was thinking about carving me and Evy into.” Janus smield, pulling Roman by the arm, dragging him towards the tree. He couldn’t respond, the tree's shadow washed over him, a few leaves brushing past his face, it was all too much. 

“B...eautifu..l” Roman sputtered, slowly reaching out his hand to touch the bark as he and Janus began searching his pockets for a knife. He was almost afraid to touch it, that the tree might open up and swallow him, sharply dragging him through each layer it had earned from being alive, forced to live through every single name's carving, whiteness over and over, knives digging into his skin, everything he’d never have. 

He touched the bark, nothing happened.

“Roman, are you ok?” Janus asked, brushing into Romans thoughts, hand now gripped around a small makeshift knife, it had a rusty sharpened blade that looked like it had come from a vehicle due to all the gas stains, firm cloth bound wood handle. It had few blood stains.

“I’m never going to get my soulmate....”

“Oh Roman it’s ok alright, you’ll find them in time. Anyways, it’s not like your whole world revolves around someone else, you have you, isn’t that how you like it?”  
Janus tried to console, giving him a playful shove before starting to strike the soft bark, finding a small free space near the roots.

“I guess…”

“Roman, what’s really wrong, is it really this soulmate thing, or is something else bothering you?” Janus asked, the oddly soothing sound of the metal against wood becoming nails on a chalkboard due to the right context. Roman sat down on one of the larger roots, hand tight around the stem of a small red and white mushroom shooting out of a bed of moss.

“Not the whole ‘soulmate thing’. Imagine, that would be so childish and petty. I’m perfectly fine just sitting here on my own, everyone celebrating without me. I just love this!” Roman smiled sarcastically, hand tightening around the stem of the mushroom before all at once squeezing around it, turning the fungus to a mess of goo. He rubbed wiped his hand off, getting to his feet. “Now, I think I’ll be going, wouldn’t wanna be to not-alone for too long, I might start to feel, I’ll dare say it, ok.” He mocked dramatically.

“Roman…!” Janus half yelled, placing his knife down and walking towards the now backing away Roman. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I..didn't mean to come off like that..” He sighed, reaching out and taking Romans hand in his. “It's just you never really talk about soulmates, you only brought it up when your brother got his...and I thought that was your just normal fighting with him..”

They stood in silence for a bit.

“No, your right it’s stupid..” Roman relented, grip loosing, as he looked off into the sunset. Subtle blue hues starting to light up the pinkish sky, a flock of migrating birds dancing through the whimsical clouds.

“Roman, it’s not stupid, I’m sorry I made you feel like it was.” Janus smiled shyly, tugging Romans hand to lead him up towards the tree. But oddly enough Janus led him away from where he’d been writing Evelyn's name and instead around the over side of the trunk where he found another path of unmarked bark.  
“Here…” Janus kneeled down and began carving something into the tree, “What if we put our names down like a friendship thing, ‘Janus and Roman’?” 

“Ok..” Roman sighed, sitting down on a bed of dry leaves as he watched Janus carve letters into the bold hazel, knife making a small chizaling sound, some sap spilling down the golden rind.

‘Janus and Roman.’ Janus had also carved a few stars around it, a small crooked crown hovering over Romans name. 

“I’m sorry about what I said Roman, you're like one of the only friends I think I actually just enjoy hanging out with for the sake of it.” Janus’s smield, getting up from where he’d kneeled to inscribe the names, and reaching out his hand to help Roman up. 

“I’m sorry for going off on you.” Roman frowned, taking Janus's hand as he was pulled to his feet. And they just stood there for a moment. The sunset had shriveled up into darkness, a small moon hanging low in a cradle of clouds. Then after a few moments, there was some cracks like thunder as some fireworks descended into the heavens, lighting up the sky in bursts of multi colored lights. 

“I wonder if my brother thinks I got kidnapped, I kinda didn’t say I was leaving.” Roman asked airily, sparks of fire falling off into spurts of nothingness, only to be replaced by larger and larger streaks, explosions bursting through the cozy silence.

“I hope so.” Janus laughed lightly, firming his grip around Romans hand, fingers interlaced clunkily like someone's first attempt at sewing, both their eyes mesmerized by the glowing sky. 

Roman had spent his entire life under that sky, it hovered above him tauntingly, just out of reach, sweet rain dampening his clothes as he walked to school, warm summer sun fawning his face when he first learned to swim in his grandparents' lake house, cold moon lulling him asleep as he curled up on the couch with his brother and a cup of hot chocolate. But as he felt Janus’s hand held protectively around his, the sky felt so much closer, like maybe if he reached out into it, he could grab the moon and study it as it rolled around his palm. 

Before going home that night, he snuck back to the tree, sharpening a bottle cap and adding to the carving Janus had done.

‘Janus and Roman and Logan’ 

Hoping with all his heart they’d never see it. 

Well, maybe not ‘all’ his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update:
> 
> I really wanted to have a bit more Logan in this but I realized I hadn’t made him show up yet and there were already 2400 words so he only got a little bit. Mabye I’ll try and remedy that next chapter.


	5. The fox and 2 hounds

Roman had spent most of the past few days in his room. He would work and sleep till his tongue felt like a desert and his stomach a gaping hole, then he would sneak down stairs and stalk up on water bottles plus whatever food was laying around. It’s not like he was working on anything particularly important, but when it came between watching more of his brother and Patton’s growingly insufferable affections, or his less than perfect friends (most of his friendships where less relationships then they were pitfalls hed given up escaping) his work was quite appealing. 

Roman laid back on his bed, pulling out his phone as he began to scroll through his most recent notifications. He had a few likes from Instagram, a bunch of texts from a group chat he didn’t remember joining, and a single text form Janus. Janus had gone on a trip with his family as they had the whole week off from school due to it being Soul week. The pic was of Janus skiing on a black diamond, there wasn’t a caption but Roman assumed it was likely some sort of joke since he himself could only go on the magic carpet.

He sighed, pausing his music before clicking off his phone and tossing over to his bedside table. He sighed, closing his eyes as he focused on the sounds honking and yelling burbling through his bedroom window. He was tired, but he just couldn’t bring himself to sleep. He just felt oddly awful, like the festival had drained his happiness like some sort of weird vampire. Yeah.. it didn’t really make much sense. 

There was someone at his door. They weren't knocking, not even saying anything, he could just head their hand pressed against the bent wood, shoes shuffling along the wood floor.

“Remus?” 

“Umm...not exactly.”

Roman shot up, quickly fiddling his way out of bed, and leaping to his feet. His head hurt, eyelids weak and heavy, his foot half asleep, but he still ran over to his closet and tossed on a shirt, and started fumbling through his hair with a comb he found left by his small dresser mirror. 

“I hope I am not disturbing you, Vigril told me Remus and Patton needed me, and he told me to ask you to come out of your room, and I guess here I am..” Logan sputtered, then after taking a second to clear his throat he said blankly, “Remus wants you to come out of your room.”

Roman walked over and slammed open the door, looking at the now rather startled, Logan standing on the other end. He had a coy expression, was dressed in a ink black dress shirt accompanied by a blue and purple striped tie, black hair perfectly brushed in comparison to Romans hair which looked mildly like a bird's nest. 

“I’m sorry.. my brother is kind of an idiot..” Roman sighed, biting down the fury that was starting to burn in his chest, tucking his clenched fists into the pockets of his ruby jacket.

“It’s fine.” Logan answered plainly. 

“Wait..why did you come? You're not that close by...?” Roman pressed, now leaning in his door frame, “Do you enjoy my company?” Roman smirked, adding a wink for dramatic effect.

There was a pause.

“Yes.”

“Oh.. wait really?” Roman said blinking slightly, the vigor completely dropping from his voice.

“Was I supposed to say no?” 

“Well no...I guess I just.. never mind… wanna go for a walk?”

“That sounds nice.”

—-

“I’ll probably be going hunting with my family this weekend.” Logan smiled as he walked beside Roman, the two walking along the sidewalk that passed by a rich patch of forest. The two had been walking for around 20 minutes or so without saying anything, Roman seemed like he was mixed up in his thoughts, and Logan was simply a rather quiet person. 

“My parents wouldn’t let me in a 30 mile radius of a gun.” Roman smirked, thinking back to the time he and his brother had nearly accidentally shot their neighbors dog with a BB gun they’d borrowed. Logan just laughed, curling up into the dark red coat he was clad in. 

“Thanks for lending me the coat.” 

“Of course.” Roman smirked shyly, “The cold never bothered me anyway.” he added laughing slightly as Logan gave him a puzzled glance. Truthfully he was already rather hot in his sweatshirt, so it hadn’t been that much of a problem.

“Was that a frozen reference?” Logan asked as Roman stepped ahead slightly, leading Logan off the main sidewalk and down the small woodsy biking trail, fall leaves pouring down like orange rain

“Yep, great movie.” Roman beamed, marveling at the bountiful flora, the trees were different shades of red almost as if they’d been stained by a sunset, groves of wild pansies poking through the dead brush, and calls of traveling birds singing through the cold air.

“A plot hole ridden movie.” Logan corrected, shoes scrapped against the concrete, hands stuffed into his jacket as he shivered slightly. The sky was becoming a darker shade of grey.

“Isn't that part of charm.” Roman smiled, spinning around as a gust of leaves flew by him, the drops of crinkled gold spinning through the air, trapped into tiny autumn tornadoes. He reached and grabbed one, admiring the smudge of yellow and burnt auburn.

“I thought the charm came from the likable characters and engaging-“ Logan was interrupted by Roman shoving a leaf in his hand, it was a decently large oak one, deep red folded into splashes of dark plum. He looked at it for a second, taking in its small brilliance.

“It's huge, the biggest one I’ve seen all year.” Roman grinned, as he watched Logan study the leaf, hugging himself as another gust of wind crashed against the red jacket.

“Is this how you win all your arguments?”

“Basically.”

—-

The rain seemed to be leaving bruises in the street, water crashing against the cold asphalt, turning it to darker blush purple. Blackberry curls of ice cold water lapping down the ridged streets, skateboard wheels ramming into them causing waves to slosh up against the walls of the sidewalk. 

Roman had decided against skateboarding all the way to school, instead he was simply skating down to the bus stop. Normally rain wouldn’t be a bother for him, but he’d decided to wear a short sleeve shirt (it was a pretty warm) that day and he was worried the rain (he hadn’t been able to locate his jacket) might wash off the concealer he'd used to cover up the names carved on his arm.

he reached the stop, picking up his soaking wet skateboard as it soaked his shirt, staring at the bleak beat up stop sign in front of him. There were a few other kids around, two huddled under an umbrella, another splashing in a puddle, the rest attempting to use (while simultaneously shielding) their phones in the rain. 

Roman stood there for around 10-12 minutes, hugging his skateboard against his chest, a series of cold winds ripping past him, each stronger than the last, and he was sure if he stood there for long enough, one would finally tear him in half. He sighed, slipping his hand into the pockets of his jeans, thumb pressing against his phone's home button protectively.

Finally the bus arrived, and Roman was sure the wave of water that it tossed up soaking its new passengers, was far from unintentional. 

He was the last one on, dragging himself up the stairs as the doors shook almost in anticipation of closing. He strode down the aisle as his head shuffled between high and confident, or low and afraid. He hadn’t ridden the bus in months, and he didn’t know many of the people on it, their collective chatter and laugh mixing into a ringing that felt like it was burning through his ears. 

The middle of the bus was the emptiest. It was built from the people who had been heading to the back before they realized they had no one there who would let them sit with them, and those were simply too indecisive to choose. Roman sat in the middle that lay closer to the front, it ended up being a seat with the window half open causing water to splash in his face as the bus jostled down the busy street. Well, busy was a divisive term: The street in fact was busy but instead of cars, strucks, and bikes, it was more along the lines of potholes, tossed rocks, broken street lights and a few dead bodies here and there. 

That was the kind of busy most would shy away from, as most people tended to shy away from their town. Yet, Roman had always found some sort of solace in their towns, kind of ‘busy’. His younger life had been in a large city filled with traffic jams, mobs covering every street, and lights so powerful they lit up his bedroom through the blinds. That was the busyness that terrified him, the one that made him worry the buildings might collapse on top of him as he walked, that the noise would consume him. Compared to that, he thought he could put up with the ‘busyness’ of Cherry lane in NewLake Vermont. 

“Roman?” A voice squeaked, causing Roman to startle as he whipped his head around to see someone sticking their head over the back of his seat. “Guess we're both on here because of the rain huh?” Patton beamed, his blonde locks had taken on a strangely lighter tone, hanging over his freckled smile. “Can I sit with you?”

“Yeah, fine.” Roman sighed, leaning against the window, face squished against the freezing glass. Patton responded with a small ‘yay’ climbing over the seat resulting in a small yell out of the bus driver, and tossing his bag and Romans into the aisle, then taking a tentative seat.

“Are you upset with me and Rem?” He asked, tone growing it a bit dimmer, folding his arms around his knees as he pulled his legs to his chest. Whenever Patton was upset or worried someone else was upset, he had this habit of tapping the tips of his shoes together and the small noise was mildly driving Roman up the wall. 

Roman didn’t answer, he didn’t answer for the entire rest of the bus ride. He just sat there pretending Patton, the other passengers, and the bumpy road, had all disappeared. And Patton didn't ask again, only questioning him about his lack of rain clothes as the bus drove up the hill that led their school. Roman didn’t answer that ether. 

—-

Roman had a strange habit of looking at the sky as if it were some sort of scene in a puppet show. The stars sloppily painted cardboard cutouts hot glued onto spare fishing line, the darkness nothing more than a black quilt, and a paper mache moon. There was just something comforting about pretending for a moment that the world wasn’t so vast and complex, that instead it was a simple faux scene full of virtuous heroes defeating black and white villains. 

“So, what's going on with you?” Virgil asked as he laid flat on his back on the slowly swaying dock, his voice was raspy and tired, yet you could almost hear a smile in it. 

Roman had been having a hard time sleeping and after laying in bed for over 3 hours decided he was done, and so he had ended up skateboarding down to the dock. It wasn’t too uncommon for him to ride or walk around town at night, he seemed to find some sort of comfort in it, when one spends most of their life in the spotlight maybe the shadows are a bit more compelling. 

“Can’t sleep.” Roman said blandly, his usual flair and dramatics seemed far too exhausting for the moment. He was curled up on the edge of the dock, legs criss crossed, shoes edging over the decaying boards, his hand tracing the ripples dancing through the deep blue, that lay just out of his reach. 

“I’d like to say the same...but I didn’t even try.” Virgil laughed looking away from his stargazing for a second to shoot Roman a smile. Roman flashed him a smile back as they took a moment to embrace the kind silence. “So….Roman.. what’s the.. like best thing you’ve ever experienced?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know I’m not the best at talking. Now answer the question so I don’t feel awkward.” Vigril smirked, sitting up and scooting over to sit next to Roman, dropping his legs over the edge of the dock, shoes dipping into the moon kissed water. 

“Umm, I guess there was this time I went to watch this play..” he trailed off for a second, taking a moment to think through a mess of memories. “And I don’t really remember what the play was about...but there was this cool scene where the characters were inside a lighthouse.” Roman took a second to break into a shy laugh, “And there was this fight scene that was not just about who got the most hits but also who was controlling the light since it was being used to guide a ship to shore….and I guess it always stuck with me. I think that’s what made me start getting into theater. It doesn’t really make sense.”  
Roman grinned absentmindedly, looking at the foggy forest across the lake. “What about you?”

“Me?” Virgil questioned sarcastically. “Probably the time I was just sly of killing my brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is really short ummm.
> 
> Also Newlake isn’t a real place in Vermont, the place it’s mildly based on is actually in a completely different state.


End file.
